


it's bad enough we get along so well

by softbeoms



Category: TOMORROW X TOGETHER | TXT (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Or an Attempt at Humor, Strangers to Lovers, beomgyu and soobin are cousins, beomgyu tutors yeonjun, beomgyu's a creative writing major, it's a whole shebang, no angst whatsoever, sort of side sookai, they fall in love, yeonjun's a dance major
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:14:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25018360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softbeoms/pseuds/softbeoms
Summary: “I have a plan,” Soobin said, voice quieting further when the librarian passed them again, “Hyung, I have a plan.”“I hear you,” Yeonjun said blankly. He wasn’t ready to share Soobin’s enthusiasm quite yet, still thinking about where exactly he could find a hit-person of some sort without risking his laptop. He was already doubting he could afford even the cheapest hitman service, fucking his laptop up in the process would just add to his bank account’s misery.“Hyung, let’s get you a tutor.”(Or: Yeonjun is a dance student suffering through his English Literature class and Beomgyu is the creative writing major who has to tutor him.)
Relationships: Choi Beomgyu/Choi Yeonjun
Comments: 40
Kudos: 277





	it's bad enough we get along so well

**Author's Note:**

> so! hello! i've sank into the deep dark abyss of txt ficdom and i was itching for a fic where i could vent my eng-lit frustrations and lo and behold this fic was born. (also i know that the likelihood of a korean dance major having english lit as a core subject is hilariously, Hilariously low, but for the sake of this little fic, pls let it pass. thank u so much mwah.)
> 
> this fic is non-betaed so any mistakes are mine. i apologize to anyone who comes across this bc in truth this is just the most self-indulgent thing ever. 
> 
> **if you like it, please don't hesitate to leave a comment and kudos!**
> 
> **[DISCLAIMER: TXT AS DEPICTED HERE ARE NOT MEANT TO REFLECT THE MEMBERS IN REAL LIFE WHATSOEVER. THE CHARACTERS HERE ARE PURELY FICTIONAL.]**

“Whoever decided to make English Literature a part of the fucking _dance curriculum_ needs to turn on their location,” Yeonjun mumbled despairingly into his open copy of _Waiting for Godot_. “I wanna talk it out. Negotiate, maybe. Punch them in the face, definitely.” 

“Does the Founders’ Memorial count as a location?’ Soobin said absently, sounding all too much like he was _smiling_ , and boy did that rankle Yeonjun’s already delicate nerves. Never mind that he couldn’t _see_ Soobin, his face being preoccupied at the moment, being stuffed in a heavily annotated book and all, but he could feel it in his bones that Soobin was smiling. Yeonjun was ready to throw down. 

“No you’re not, stop trying to fight everything, we’re in the library,” Soobin said, and well, fine, Yeonjun could concede that he was right. The librarian already hated his guts; he didn’t want to give her more reasons to hate him further, especially with midterms upon them. Soobin was right, sometimes. 

“I’m right all the time,” Soobin said, and Yeonjun really needed to stop thinking out loud, it was unhealthy for Soobin’s ego and his own sanity. “You’re still doing it, hyung.” 

“Dammit,” Yeonjun sighed, and at least _that_ was on purpose. He nuzzled his face further into the pages. Perhaps Samuel Beckett would provide him some comfort through osmosis. 

“How much coffee have you had, exactly?” 

“Difficult to say,” His words were muffled by paper, and dammit he wasn’t being comforted. The words were still floating in his head like soggy bits of alphabet soup, and Yeonjun was the poor fool trying in vain to get the letters to come together and make sense. _Vladimir and Estragon_ , his mind whispered faintly, _please appear in front of me and explain yourselves. I can't do this anymore._ “I might have drunk three cups. Or thirteen. I’ve no clue.” 

Soobin sighed heavily through his nose, and oh man Yeonjun hated those. He hated those a lot. Whenever Soobin sighed like that, it meant he’d had enough and he was taking things into his own hands. Yeonjun never learned how to be ready for Soobin when he was like that. 

“Come on hyung, head up,” Soobin said, a hand going to the crown of Yeonjun’s head. He grabbed hold of a few strands and tugged, shushing Yeonjun when he whined that it hurt. He ignored Yeonjun’s hushed tirade of “Bin, please, I just got my roots done, my scalp is tender, don’t be evil, Bin, come on,” and kept pulling until he could look Yeonjun in the eye. 

He knew he was pouting to drum up some sympathy, but there was a look in Soobin’s eyes that made it clear to Yeonjun that he wasn’t going to get any. 

“When’s your exam on this?” Soobin asked, a firmness to his voice that never failed to make Yeonjun compulsively tell him the truth. 

“Next week,” he said, wincing slightly at the reminder. 

“Day?” 

“Thursday,” 

Soobin’s hand was still firmly in Yeonjun’s hair. Yeonjun wanted to shake it off but he feared doing so might just make the whole situation worse; some students were already looking at them and quite frankly, Yeonjun’s quota for embarrassment today was plenty full, thanks. “It’s Friday, hyung. You have less than a week.” 

“I know,” At that, Soobin finally let go of his hair, leaving Yeonjun to crash back into his book with a dull _thud_. “I still don’t get the practice questions and I’ve been reading it since it was assigned. I’m going to die.” And sure, Yeonjun was playing up his distress a bit more than usual, but there was very real panic settling into his system. He’d passed the prelim for this subject by an _inch_ , and any lower would seriously endanger his scholarship. There was no universe in which he’d be ready to call his parents and report that he’d lost his scholarship because of an _English exam_ of all things. He would really rather just explode spontaneously. 

He was going to ask Soobin if he knew any hitmen willing to work for cheap when Soobin snapped his fingers and made an “aha!” noise that was all too loud for the librarian’s liking, who shushed them as she passed. Soobin only smiled and apologized, and was forgiven immediately. Yeonjun spared a passing thought that it was quite unfair that Soobin could probably commit arson in here and the librarian would still like him while the worst _he_ ever did was bring food into the stacks and that was apparently enough to have him blacklisted in all but name. 

“I have a plan,” Soobin said, voice quieting further when the librarian passed them again, “Hyung, I have a plan.” 

“I hear you,” Yeonjun said blankly. He wasn’t ready to share Soobin’s enthusiasm quite yet, still thinking about where exactly he could find a hit-person of some sort without risking his laptop. He was already doubting he could afford even the cheapest hitman service, fucking his laptop up in the process would just add to his bank account’s misery. 

“Hyung, let’s get you a tutor.” 

At that, Yeonjun’s mind ground to a halt. A tutor. A _tutor_. How did he not think of that sooner?

“I don’t know either hyung,” Soobin said, and damn, Yeonjun was thinking out loud again. “Yes, you are. You really need to get some sleep after this, hyung.” 

“I will,” Yeonjun sighed, running agitated fingers through his hair. His scalp ached but that was nothing a hair mask couldn’t fix. And Yeonjun had bought new ones recently, too, those Lush ones that cost him an arm and two legs to buy. His wallet was crying after he left the shop but his hair was going to thrive and Yeonjun believed in equivalent exchange. (Soobin would argue that paying fifty thousand won for two hair masks was hardly equal but it was fine. The pain of existence is cushioned by casual consumerism, and Yeonjun bought into it more often than he was prepared to admit.) 

There was a major blip in Soobin’s plan, however, and Yeonjun nearly slapped himself when he remembered that midterms were literally two weeks away and there was no way that the tutoring slots weren’t all taken by now. “Soobin, the tutoring services are packed full,” he said, flat despair leaking into his voice. This was it, he was done for. He was really going to look for a hitman now, malware and viruses be damned. “I’m not gonna get a slot.” 

“I know,” Soobin said easily, holding his phone out for Yeonjun to look at. There was a contact on the screen, labeled “ _sweet bby cuz_ ” and Yeonjun was confused, to say the least. 

“What does your cousin have to do with it?” he asked, looking from the proffered screen to Soobin’s face. He looked too calm for Yeonjun’s liking. 

“My cousin’s a creative writing major and is, like, stupid good with lit stuff,” the younger said, pulling his phone back. “He can tutor you.” 

Yeonjun wondered if his face looked as unconvinced as he felt. “Since when did you have a cousin that goes here?”

“He’s a second-year, I told you about him before,” Soobin said, unimpressed. Yeonjun scratched at his head sheepishly. Right, yeah, Soobin _did_ mention him before, last semester maybe. They’d been in the library then, too, delirious with sleep deprivation and reeling from a recent caffeine crash. Soobin mumbled something about coming around to his cousin’s dorm to drop off food and supplies because Soobin’s kind like that, and Yeonjun probably grunted out a “cool, bruh,” and then passed out over his dance theory notes. 

“You think he’ll be willing to help?” Yeonjun asked. He was a little uneasy with the idea now; Soobin’s cousin didn’t volunteer to be a tutor, and Yeonjun reckoned that he wouldn’t appreciate a sudden addition to his workload just because Yeonjun couldn’t wrap his head around literary existentialism. 

Soobin seemed unbothered, though, texting away. “He owes me, it’s chill.” 

“That’s not any better?” Yeonjun pointed out. The younger waved it off, continuing to type into his phone. “Soobin, wait—” 

“Hyung, trust me,” Soobin cut him off, firm and final. “If it turns out that he can’t help, I’ll personally hunt down a tutor for you. Let me handle it.” He put down his phone, smiled benignly at Yeonjun, and turned back to his notes. Yeonjun was left to frown in defeat and flip listlessly through his own notes. He would put up more of a fight, but they were still in the library, and he still had his other readings to do. And there really was no downside to this, or at least that was what he was telling himself. If it came down to it, he was really just going to have to live through the exam and try his hardest. Whatever results that followed, he’d have to live with them. 

Yeonjun hoped he’d learn how to live with them in time for the exam next week. 

Soobin came to him with news that following Sunday. They decided to for a change of scenery and transported their studying efforts to a cafe just outside campus. Yeonjun was yet to even set his books down when the younger slapped his phone down on the table, face smug. The chat with _sweet bby cuz_ was opened and left for Yeonjun to read. 

“Wait, ignore the other shit, just read the last message,” Soobin instructed, blocking most of his phone screen with his hand. 

“I dunno, there was some rather interesting stuff about a first-year in club with you—?”

“You saw nothing!” Soobin yelled, bringing the attention of most of the cafe patrons to them and causing Yeonjun to nearly fold over in half with laughter. “Ah, I’m sorry, please continue with what you’re doing, sorry again for the disturbance–Yeonjun hyung please stop laughing and sit down, people are staring.” 

“That’s not my fault,” Yeonjun wheezed, plopping into his seat. He dragged his bag up to rest on the other chair, still breathing quite heavily. “But I am hurt that you didn’t tell me about the first year, Bin.” 

Soobin’s answering glare was downright venomous. “It was already a mistake to tell my cousin,” he said, and Yeonjun hadn’t known that pouts were audible until he met Soobin, his words slurring with the downward pull of his mouth. “He keeps giving me shit for it and if I told you it’d just be worse,” And, yeah, okay that was fair. “And hyung, did you even read the text I told you to read?” 

“Oh, hm, well,” was all he could say, which was telling as hell. Soobin’s scowl deepened. “Look, you gave me free information about the first year you’re crushing on—”

“Hyung!”

“—and expected me to focus on anything else? Soobin, you should know me better by now.” 

“Do you not want to hear about how I basically saved your GPA then?” 

_That_ made Yeonjun pause. “Now, I didn’t say that. And don’t say you’ve saved my GPA yet, I haven’t even met your cousin.”

“But I got him to agree, and when you’re making your valedictorian speech in front of the whole graduating class you’ll now be obligated to mention me—”

“Soobin, oh my god,”

“—because I saved your ass and got you on that podium,” Soobin finished his little speech with a defiant sip of his coffee as if daring Yeonjun to even try and prove him wrong. But Yeonjun really had nothing to say to that, and could only watch as the younger grinned at him and took his phone out again, typing something into it. Presumably, if the buzz in Yeonjun’s pocket was anything to go by, it was his cousin’s contact information. 

“He said he’s free from five to nine tomorrow,” Soobin continued, bringing books and notes out as Yeonjun took out his own phone to save the number. “Bring food, though, it was his only request. Apart from paying him, anyway.” And Yeonjun had already planned on doing that anyway, but the confirmation that it wouldn’t be weird was good, too. 

Yeonjun nodded and got up to order. He still had eight weeks' worth of theory notes to try and cram and he was going to need as much caffeine as he could consume to live through that. 

Monday found Yeonjun in front of the first-year dorms. Soobin’s cousin had texted him the details by the time Yeonjun had gotten home from the cafe, and he’d thought nothing of it until he’d arrived. Wasn’t Soobin’s cousin a second year? He was tempted to call Soobin and ask or perhaps even text the cousin to confirm the location but he was already feeling entirely too awkward about being there at all that he felt like texting would just make things worse. How exactly, he wasn’t sure. Yeonjun never claimed to be logical about his emotional impulses. 

So he sucked it up, held onto his takeout bags a little tighter, and went in. 

There was a certain smell that Yeonjun will always associate with first-year dorms. He couldn’t really pin down what it was exactly but it bombarded him now as he stepped into the reception area. Like stale sheets and contraband booze and anxiety. It was strange, to say the least, to breathe it in now when he felt so far removed from his own experience as a first-year. His first year barely crossed his mind these days, if only in brief flashes when he was struggling to fall asleep and his brain’s way of helping out was playing a sepia-toned highlight reel of all of his worst moments. 

“Yeonjun hyung!” someone called, pulling Yeonjun out of his thoughts (thank fuck, too, he wasn’t about to relive his first-year embarrassments here) and Yeonjun turned sharply in the direction of the voice to find that it was Taehyun, a first-year he and Soobin met in Maths tutoring last semester. (Taehyun was the tutor, and Yeonjun swore Soobin was about to start crying when he realized that a seventeen-year-old was telling him how to do basic algebraic functions.) 

“Taehyunie,” Yeonjun greeted, pulling the younger into a hug. He was shrugged off less than a second later, but that was fine. Taehyun was finicky with touch sometimes. 

“What’s hyung doing all the way here?” Taehyun asked, taking one of Yeonjun’s bags from his hands without prompting. Yeonjun knew he liked him for a reason. “Aren’t your dorms on the other side of campus?” 

“Yeah, they are. I’m here to meet with a tutor, actually,” 

Taehyun’s brows furrowed. “A tutor? Why not the library then?” 

“Oh it’s not with the volunteers, I was too late for that. Soobin set me up with his cousin instead.” 

“Soobin hyung’s cousin?” Taehyun’s face lit up with recognition. “You’re meeting with Beomgyu hyung then?” 

“You know him?” He realized belatedly that he never bothered to ask Soobin what his cousin’s name was, or even ask the cousin himself. And that was stupid of him to do but hey, he knew the name _now_ at least. Bless Kang Taehyun, really. 

“Yeah, he’s my roommate.” Huh, small world. He said so, to which Taehyun laughed.

Taehyun lead the way to their room, stopping ever so often to greet people. Yeonjun teased him about being popular, the younger only laughing and hitting his shoulder, saying “Half the people who’ve stopped us were people you knew,” 

Which was slightly true; Yeonjun did know a surprising amount of people who lived in these dorms. He didn’t realize how many first-years he knew just, casually. But Taehyun was the one being stopped near constantly, exchanging short jokes and those weird half-hug, half-handshake things that Yeonjun never knew what to call. The stream of people was constant enough that it delayed them to the point where, by the time they reached the dorm room, Yeonjun was five minutes late. 

Taehyun was the one to knock for the both of them, saying that he’d apologize on Yeonjun’s behalf. (He knew he liked this kid for a reason.) He wasn’t even done knocking before the door burst open, revealing a very disgruntled boy and _oh_ this must be Soobin’s cousin then. 

The boy–Beomgyu–in the doorway was about to say something to Taehyun before he spotted Yeonjun behind him, their eyes meeting and _dammit Choi Soobin, why leave out the fact that your cousin is hot?_

“Oh, are you Yeonjun-ssi then?” he said, voice deeper than Yeonjun expected. He was still reeling from the earth-shattering revelation that Soobin’s cousin was hot, so he could only nod. Thankfully, Taehyun was there to save his ass. 

“It was me who held him up,” Taehyun piped in. “I didn’t know he was here to meet you.” He extended the bag full of food to Beomgyu, who looked from the bag to Taehyun and Yeonjun with raised eyebrows. But there _was_ a smile playing at the edges of his mouth, so Yeonjun counted that as a partial win. 

“Did you buy this?” he asked, and Yeonjun needed to get over his voice because he won’t survive the entire session if he kept clamming up just from the guy speaking, for god’s sake. “Or did Yeonjun-ssi buy it for you?” 

“The food’s all from me,” Yeonjun said, finally finding his voice. It was a bit scratchy, Yeonjun having to clear his throat to dislodge whatever was stuck in there, but hey, another partial win for him. And two partials made a whole, in his mind, so he was smashing this entire interaction. (He ignored the side-eye and raised brow combo he received from Taehyun when his voice cracked. This win would not be robbed from him now.) “Taehyun’s just being a gentleman and carrying it for me.”

Beomgyu shrunk into himself a little as Yeonjun spoke. It was barely noticeable; Yeonjun wouldn’t have caught onto it if he wasn’t already looking for any minute reaction. It made him worry for a moment, that he might be acting too familiar, but then Beomgyu smiled, let them both in with a bow. Polite, too. Yeonjun might be fucked. 

The dorm was a standard, two-person room. Two beds on either side of each other, with enough space in between to fit two desks. Yeonjun assumed that that’s where they were going to work. There was a probably-illegal minifridge, where Taehyun was happily depositing some of the food that Yeonjun brought along. The room was a lot cleaner than Yeonjun would expect from two freshmen, the clutter secluded to the beds and desks. He commented on it, earning a small laugh from Taehyun and a smile from Beomgyu. (Another partial win.)

“Cleaner in comparison to Soobin hyung, I guess,” Beomgyu commented, his back to them, picking up a few stray books and throwing it on his desk. The demarcation between whose was kind of adorably obvious; Taehyun’s biology notes and _Grey’s Anatomy_ stood in stark contrast against Beomgyu’s stacks of literary readings and dog-eared paperbacks. It bordered on cliche, from the exposed dissecting kit to the moleskin journals, but Yeonjun was only endeared by it. Impressed, even, that two people this young were already so committed to their aesthetic. 

“I think everyone’s cleaner in comparison to Soobin,” Yeonjun mused, getting a laugh from both of them. (One more partial win, another whole win. Two whole wins under his belt. Yeonjun was acing this.) “Really, I feel bad for his roommate. He left his earphones in the soap dispenser last time I was there.” 

“Oh, my god,” Beomgyu choked, laughing so hard he had to lean on his desk chair to support himself. (Yeonjun might call that a whole win on its own.) 

“The soap dispenser? Really?” Taehyun asked in disbelief. He was still in front of the minifridge, stowing away food. He’d stopped to laugh, it seemed. Pride bloomed in Yeonjun’s chest; he was making them laugh! And sure, it was at Soobin’s expense, but best friend privileges. He was fine. 

Soon enough, Taehyun had to leave for a class, leaving with a wave and a smile that bordered on smirk-y in Yeonjun’s direction. He was tempted to ask about it later, but knowing the younger he might just get made fun of. 

It was when the door closed behind Taehyun that Yeonjun realized that he might have a problem. The silence that followed was jarring, settling into the room so quickly that Yeonjun wondered if the past few minutes of laughter were all imagined. He turned to look at Beomgyu, finding that the younger was looking down at the desk, lips pressed together and shoulders tucked in. He looked like he was gathering his words behind his pursed mouth, keeping them squeezed until he met Yeonjun’s eyes. 

“So let’s start huh?” Beomgyu said, the smallest of smiles quirking the corner of his lips upward. Yeonjun nodded, smiled too. 

(Another partial win.)

“So how was it? How was Beomgyu? Were you nice to him?” was what Soobin chose to greet him with. Yeonjun was a little offended; he hadn’t even had the chance to set his things down and he was already being bombarded with questions. 

“Hello to you, too Soobin,” Yeonjun cooed, dumping his bag on the table with a heavy _thump_. “I’m doing just fine, thank you so much for asking. What a caring dongsaeng, asking about how I am before I even sit down. Thank you, really.” 

Soobin only rolled his eyes, to which Yeonjun squawked in offense. The disrespect was just never-ending today, it seemed.

They were in the cafe again, the library proving to be a little too crowded to focus in right now. Yeonjun honestly hated the fact that he was having to read up on anything at all. He could be getting more practice time in by now if it weren’t for stupid theory exams. (Don’t get him wrong, Yeonjun, really truly, understood the value of a holistic learning experience and genuinely enjoyed nearly all of his classes. He got why he was required to do a lot more things instead of being forced to focus on just his major. He got all of that. But he also often complained about how he has all of these things on his schedule when he could just be dancing. Those things weren’t mutually exclusive, and he was free to feel both.) 

“How was Beomgyu?” Soobin asked again, pushing a box of Pocky to rest in front of Yeonjun’s books. Yeonjun hummed happily, picking up the box with a stray “thank you,” and ripping into it. Perhaps Soobin deserved rights after all. 

“He was great,” Yeonjun said eventually, words slightly slurred by the biscuits in his mouth. “Got me to understand the basics of existentialism in under an hour. He was a lot shyer than I expected, though.” 

He was careful not to mention that he was too pretty to be real, or that Yeonjun found the way he made noises as he checked Yeonjun’s work adorable, or that Yeonjun was too distracted by his voice sometimes to absorb what he was saying. Yeonjun had left the session with a new little spark in the center of his chest, sitting next to old ones that have since gone out. It was tiny, barely anything, but he liked the feel of it, the newness of it. 

“Ah, that’s just at first,” Soobin said, laughing a little. “He’s a brat, really. When you see him later, it’ll be like a whole new person.” 

“I got the vibe, yeah,” There was something contained about Beomgyu when Yeonjun met him, and it became increasingly obvious as the session went on, bursts of a louder interior peeking through the cracks of his quietness. He fidgeted endlessly as Yeonjun answered practice questions, hands in constant motion as he explained the philosophical musings that were spread through the text. He was so smart, too. His voice was sure as he talked Yeonjun through different talking points, steady even though he couldn’t really meet Yeonjun’s eye half the time. “He was really cool throughout. Never made me feel dumb.” 

The smile on Soobin’s face took on a softer edge. “Yeah, Gyu’s great like that.” The conversation broke off after that, with Yeonjun getting up to order and Soobin going back to his homework. They spent the next thirty minutes in almost-silence, occasional interjections coming in the form of Soobin faceplanting into the table to try and “resuscitate his dead brain cells”, which was a solid mood if there ever was one, and Yeonjun screaming quietly into his closed fists as he read over his notes from yesterday. There wasn’t much talking at all until Soobin spoke up again. 

“He helped you out, yeah?” he asked, his expression attempting nonchalance but there was a sincere earnestness in his eyes that made Yeonjun want to coo. Soobin wanted to know that he didn’t make it worse, that Yeonjun was actually being helped, because he was Soobin, and he was kind. 

Yeonjun nodded. “Yeah, he did. Thank you for introducing me to him,” 

Soobin smiled, the softness of it eventually edging into mischievousness. “So, that valedictorian speech yeah?” 

“Shut up,” 

“Wait okay, so you’re telling me they might be gay?” 

Beomgyu laughed, hair falling into his eyes as he leaned forward on the desk. (That counted as a whole win, at least.) “There are theories that they might be, yes.” 

Yeonjun clapped his hands. “I can take that. Trust the experts and all that,” 

The younger was still laughing. “Beckett never confirmed if they were gay or not—”

“Do you not believe in the death of the author, Beomgyu-ssi?” 

“—Hyung! I didn’t even know you covered literary theory, what the hell.” 

“I am full of surprises, Beomgyu-ssi.” It wasn’t like he spent half an hour on Naver last night looking at some literary theory models. It wasn’t like that at all. (He needed it for revision purposes anyway but that was like. Seventy-percent of the reason.) 

(Okay. Fifty.) 

(Thirty, maybe.) 

(Twenty, truthfully.)

Soobin was right about how different he was on the second meeting; Beomgyu was looser, noticeably so. His smile was unrestrained as he opened the door to greet Yeonjun, and Yeonjun had lost at least five percent of his brain activity trying to recover from it. He babbled more, telling Yeonjun more about himself as the session progressed. (Beomgyu was indeed a second-year, but he’d enrolled so late into the year that the second-year dorms were full. “It’s how I’m stuck with Taehyun,” he shrugged. Beomgyu was a transfer student from Daegu. Beomgyu was deathly shy by his own admission but was talkative “as all hell” when comfortable. 

Beomgyu was endearing and Yeonjun was suffering.) 

He laughed freely, called Yeonjun ‘hyung’, and only paused to look at him as if to ask if it was okay. And Yeonjun, being the easily whipped ass that he was, of course, told him that it was okay. He met Yeonjun’s eye now, and boy was that a double-edged sword.

(The spark was growing in increments. Yeonjun felt it each time they locked eyes, or whenever Beomgyu explained a hard passage for him and made things that seemed unfathomable, easy and simple. He felt it when the younger took his proffered bag of conbini snacks and said “We’ll share, hyung,”)

“But really, they’re gay?” he asked when their laughter petered out. 

Beomgyu shrugged. “I mean, it’s a valid idea,” he mused, thumbing at his own annotated copy (which was in the original French because Beomgyu had no fear and Yeonjun was almost ashamed to admit how hot he thought it was). “Got into whole arguments about whether or not it was valid representation though,” 

Which, yeah, Yeonjun could see that point. “What do you think then?” 

“Well,” he paused, humming as he thought over his answer. “Again, it’s a valid idea. And it’s a funny one, it is, but I dunno. I always feel a little off when people try to take pieces of literature that don’t really tackle queer issues or queer reality and then decide retroactively that it’s representation. It feels sloppy? Is that the word I’m looking for?” 

Yeonjun hummed. “Like Rowling and the gay-ening of Harry Potter?” 

“Exactly like that!” Beomjun said on a laugh, sounding relieved. “Like yeah, it’s a play, in this case, so there’s more leeway, and it’s a welcome interpretation of the text, but eh. I just feel so ‘eh’ about it.” 

“I get it,” Yeonjun said. “It’s easy as a community to like, desire representation, especially since we’re so desperate for it. But not all rep is good rep, I see what you mean.” 

Something in Beomgyu’s eyes changed, and it struck Yeonjun then, what he just said. Fuck fuck fuck fuck he did not just say that. Not in front of a stranger. And yes, it was a stranger he found attractive, and yes it was a stranger he had the beginnings of an interest in, but it was still a stranger. He really did not think this through. In truth, Beomgyu would probably be okay with Yeonjun being queer. He was related to–and seemed close with–Soobin, but still. Maybe he was just okay with people like Yeonjun and Soobin. Oh god what situation had Yeonjun put himself into—

“Y-You,” Beomgyu said, cutting into the panic submerging Yeonjun’s brain. “You too then, hyung?” 

_Oh._

His brain restarted then, and Yeonjun let his eyes roam, both to buy himself time and to avoid looking at Beomgyu head-on. It was during this that he caught things he hadn’t noticed at first; the clusters of small pride stickers on the wall beside Beomgyu’s bed, the little gay flag he had taped to his bedpost, the SQCF fliers displayed proudly on the back of the door. 

When he looked at Beomgyu again, he found that he had a word for what was in his eyes now: He looked hopeful. 

“Yeah, I am,” He paused to cough, like the nervous fucker he was. “Bi, actually.” 

“Oh! Well I’m gay, though I think that’s a little more obvious,” He gestured to the stickers, the flag, the fliers, to the things Yeonjun had missed, and Yeonjun had gathered that enough, but there was always a relief that came with confirmations like these. That his world was steadily growing and contained people like him in it. It was a wonderful glow in the epicenter of his chest, to see and to be seen as well, the mortifying ordeal of being known be damned. 

“I love your stickers,” was what he chose to go with instead, because he couldn’t think of anything else. And thank fuck that Beomgyu was kind enough to move along with it, talking about where he got them and the flag, and would you like the links to their stores, hyung? They’re doing a lot of amazing things and could use the financial help. I’ll Katalk the links to you later when we’re done, yeah? 

And Yeonjun let himself get swept up in it, the new rising tide of feelings that was quickly bubbling up to his head. He always fell headlong into crushes, falling into them easily and enjoying the process of sinking his teeth into fresh infatuation. It wasn’t going to be any different now with Beomgyu, who was pretty to a devastating degree and so smart it made Yeonjun’s head spin. 

He let the new crush steep as they continued, going through a few more scenes and breaking down some of the minor themes that the play was tackling. Beomgyu was really excited by the end of it, worked up by the opportunity to talk about things he was passionate about, and by Yeonjun’s progress.

“We’ll go over it again tomorrow yeah?” he said now as Yeonjun packed his things and got ready to leave. “You’re doing really well, hyung. You’ll ace the test no problem.” 

Yeonjun smiled at that. “And that would be all thanks to you,” 

Beomgyu shook his head, but his cheeks did redden. (Another whole win right there.) “You’re smart hyung. This stuff’s just hard.”

“What does that say about you then?” Yeonjun replied, delighting in the way it made the younger go even pinker. 

He left after Beomgyu whined at him to leave, although none of his whinings could disguise the flush on his face.

Yeonjun woke up on the day of his exam with his heart ramming like a bull against his throat. 

“Fuck,” he said aloud, voice sandpaper-scratchy and thank god his roommate was out, he didn’t mean to say it so loudly. He stayed still for a moment, blinking up at the popcorn ceiling of his dorm room and wondering if he hated himself enough to skip out on a major exam and risk his GPA. The surprising answer was “No,”, and it was that whiplash that managed to energize him enough to move and get out of bed. 

He avoided his phone for now, feeling as though he might keel over if he checked any notifications. He got clothes and prepared for a shower instead, absently thinking that perhaps drowning in the dorm building shower stalls was a good enough excuse to skip. Maybe they’d even pass him without question. He’d have to figure out the logistics of whether or not he _could_ drown himself standing up, though. 

He was thinking about it the entire way to the showers, running on autopilot as he went down a floor (because there were infuriatingly no showers on Yeonjun’s floor and the person who designed this building had a place on his shit-list right next to the person who came up with the dance major curriculum) and greeted people, waving and hi-fiving and weird-bro-side-hugging whoever came up to him. 

He was maybe delaying it. (He was definitely delaying it.) 

But even with nearly everyone on the floor coming out to greet him (Soobin would laugh at him by now but so what Yeonjun was a lot more known than he’d thought, sue him), it did nothing to stop him from reaching the showers. He’d dragged his feet, made small-talk (which he _hated_ ), and even resorted to simply standing still as he waited for his friends on this floor to come out and talk to him, but alas. He was in front of the showers now, staring up at the sign above the doors with despair. There were other people coming in and out and they were staring at Yeonjun as they passed but at that particular moment, he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

At some point, he had to suck it up. (Approximately three minutes into his pitiful vigil by the door.) (Also wow, _vigil_ , he was using that word now apparently. Beomgyu would be proud.) He went in, and discovered that the logistics of trying to drown oneself in a shower stall was indeed as complicated as he thought it was going to be. 

When he got back to his dorm, his roommate was still out, and his phone was ringing up a storm on his desk. He ignored it for now, getting his things together and throwing everything in his bag. A cursory glance at the wall clock told him that he had about half an hour before his exam. He could grab a few triangle kimbap at a conbini and just have that for breakfast; that would hold him off long enough. He and Soobin were eating afterward anyway, to break in exams week. He’d survive. Hopefully. 

He got to his phone, now, scrolling past his veritable wall of notifications and answering a few texts. Soobin’s were the most, predictably. But it was his most recent ones that nearly made Yeonjun choke on his own spit. 

_hyung,_   
_remember our dinner thing later?_   
_i invited beomgyu is that okay?_

He paused, his thumbs hesitating over his phone keyboard. Realistically, he knew that he’d meet Beomgyu and Soobin together at some point. He didn’t think it’d be so soon, not when Yeonjun was still so freshly twitterpated and Soobin would be able to see through him. And fuck, he was going to die. Soobin was going to kill him. 

He couldn’t say no, because that would look weird and just raise suspicion. But he didn’t want to say yes, either, because Yeonjun couldn’t keep a straight face in front of people he found attractive and he’d gone through enough cycles of crushes for Soobin to spot the signs immediately. In his indecision he could only stare down at his phone, wondering if emotional distress to this degree could classify as a good enough excuse to miss an exam. 

(It wasn’t. And he knew it wasn’t, but you couldn’t blame him for considering it.) 

In the end, he typed out a quick _“yeah that’s fine”_ and sent it with his eyes squeezed closed. He stuffed his phone into his pocket and slipped shoes on, trying valiantly to keep the prospect of being around Beomgyu while Soobin would be there to watch, out of his mind. He had bigger things to worry about right now and he was also starving. 

It was while he was in line at the cash register at the conbini, carting his kimbap and banana milk, that he’s recovered enough of his courage to look at his phone again. There were a few follow-up texts from Soobin, telling him good luck and that Beomgyu will bring his friends along, too, if that’s okay. Yeonjun shoots off a thank you and an agreement. Perhaps more people would help shield Yeonjun’s pathetic crush. 

There was a new text too, that arrived a few minutes before Soobin’s follow-ups. It was from Beomgyu. 

_hyungie!!! good luck at your exam today!!! u’ll do well i know u will <3_

Before Yeonjun could overthink it, he sent a text back. 

_thank you, beomie. hyung will see you soon._

“FUCK MATHS,” Soobin exclaimed the moment he and Yeonjun caught eyes from across the hallway. His scream caused half the people there to jolt and turn to him, but the other half was happy to ignore him, as though used to proclamations of hatred for mathematics during this time of the semester. 

Yeonjun could only laugh as Soobin sped towards him, his knees buckling under the sudden weight as the younger threw himself onto his back, yelling at Yeonjun to piggy-back him as though he wasn’t a six-foot giant who was bigger than Yeonjun in a lot of ways. 

“Please get off of me, Giant Rabbit, my back is breaking and I can feel my spine dislodging,” Yeonjun wheezed, trying to adjust himself under Soobin’s weight, grabbing onto Soobin’s knees and huffing as he squared his footing. “Soobin, my god, I just got out of a practical exam, my joints are dying, please have mercy.” 

“Hyung, fuck maths,” was all that Soobin could say, saying into Yeonjun’s neck. He was relaxing into Yeonjun’s hold now, putting his full weight on Yeonjun’s back, all six-foot-two of him, and Yeonjun could only try and heave him a little higher and pray that they wouldn’t topple. 

“Yes, fuck maths indeed but Soobin please, I don’t want to drop you,” 

“Hyung! Fuck! Maths!” 

“Soobin hyung, please don’t mention math blasphemy in front of Taehyun, he’ll cry,” someone said from behind them, and it was a struggle to turn around to see who it was but Yeonjun managed it. It was Beomgyu, looking devastatingly adorable in a sweater-vest-and-long-sleeve-button-down combo, and behind him were Taehyun and a boy Yeonjun had never met. 

At the sight of the three of them, he felt Soobin begin to scramble off his back, and it was a bit of a scuffle before Soobin was able to get himself back on the ground, hastily brushing himself down, a weird nervousness in his actions. Yeonjun kind of raised his eyebrow in Soobin’s direction but decided on putting off the pestering for later. 

“Yeah, Soobin hyung,” Taehyun added, pointing to his already sizeable eyes and widening them further. “Look at these tears collecting in my eyes, all because of your blasphemy against mathematics.” 

“I see no tears Kang Taehyun,” Soobin pointed out, having to raise his voice over the others’ laughter. “Try a little harder,” 

The laughter faded, and Yeonjun smiled at the three newcomers, nodding towards the new boy that was with them. He was definitely a unique kind of face; Yeonjun wondered if he was mixed. But he was cute, with a mouth that seemed eager to smile and droopy eyes. He reminded Yeonjun of a puppy, the fluffy hair only adding to the effect. 

“I’m really sorry, but I don’t think we’ve met?” Yeonjun asked, flinching a little in surprise when Soobin pinched his side. He was about to retaliate when he saw the looks on Beomgyu’s and Taehyun’s faces, mouths pinched and eyes slanting at the corners with buried laughter. 

“Oh,” the new boy said, bowing at the waist. “I’m Kai. I’m friends with these two idiots and I know Soobin hyung from an org we both go to.” 

_Oh_. Well, this was going to be interesting. Yeonjun grinned widely at the younger boy, bowing back and holding out a hand for him to shake. 

“I’m Yeonjun,” 

He felt another pinch from Soobin, one much harsher, but ignored it. He met Beomgyu’s eye beyond Kai’s shoulder, and had an unspoken agreement to tease the shit out of Soobin from this moment on. 

“So!” Soobin cut in, a smile plastered on his face that looked too pained to be real. “We should go now, yeah?” 

They end up in a KBBQ place that he and Soobin had frequented a few times, bowing to the ahjussi that worked the counter and sheepishly dodging questions about why they hadn’t turned up recently. 

“We had exams, ahjussi,” Yeonjun pouted, pushing the bewildered juniors in the direction of an empty table. “We’ll try to come more often now that they’re done,” 

“Hmp, you better!” the ahjussi yelled, laughing when Soobin saluted him. 

They settle into a table, stupidly lucky to get one by a window. A waitress soon arrives with menus and then the arguing starts up between him and Soobin. There was a long-standing fight between the two of them when it came to the perfect way to start an unlimited KBBQ experience. Soobin always insisted on starting with bulgogi for some godforsaken reason while Yeonjun thought (very rightfully) that they should just get pork first. It was perhaps nonsensical, but they’ve butt heads over since they became friends, finding out about their difference in eating habits when they first ate out together. It had been a point of contention ever since. 

“Why are we talking about this,” Taehyun said, voice flat and a little disbelieving. He was looking from Soobin to Yeonjun as if deeply disappointed but Yeonjun was too fired up to be ashamed about it. “It’s all meat.” 

That was the wrong thing to say, however. Soobin directed his verbal dirge at Taehyun while Yeonjun could only sigh and shake his head at the younger, a little disappointed that an intellectual like Taehyun would call their very important discussion useless. 

“Can’t we just get one order of each to start?” Kai butt in, eyes wide and head tilted to one angle like an especially cute, concerned puppy. 

The fight seemed to leave Soobin’s body after Kai spoke, conceding easily to his statement and calling their waitress over again, getting an order of samgyeopsal and bulgogi. Yeonjun could only look at Soobin in stunned silence, while the younger very firmly avoided his gaze. 

A foot made contact with his leg, jolting Yeonjun out of his shocked stare. It was Beomgyu, who was set across him, and was smiling very secretively at Yeonjun. _I’ll tell you about it later_ , he mouthed, and then mimed texting with his hands. Yeonjun couldn’t help but grin at him, wondering if he looked as endeared as he thought he did. 

_You better_ , he mouthed back. 

The rest of the dinner went like this: 

Soobin was the most embarrassing that Yeonjun had ever seen him be in all the time he’d known him. Not that Yeonjun was one to judge, but it was getting concerning how obvious he was. Yeonjun was starting to wonder if Kai was just terribly oblivious or was aware of Soobin’s feelings and was just trying to let him down gently. But from what Yeonjun had seen, he didn’t seem like the type to do that all. For Soobin’s sake, he hoped for obliviousness. 

Taehyun made enough side-comments, both under his breath and out loud, that Yeonjun had to make a conscious effort not to take sips of his drink while Taehyun was speaking. He had made the mistake twice and choked both times. It was fun to see Taehyun in a different context because while Yeonjun considered him a friend, they never had a lot of opportunities to hang out much. It was a good feeling, watching Taehyun loosen up further. 

Kai was perhaps the most precious discovery of the evening. He was so naturally endearing and adorable that Yeonjun caught on immediately to what caused Soobin to fall head over ass. It was easy to fall into Kai’s space; he exuded a warmth that welcomed you in and he was generally lovable, with his loud (and quite frankly chaotic) laugh and the sweetness that underscored his actions, even the teasing ones. By the end of the evening, Yeonjun had his number saved as _my firstborn son_ and was willing to maybe take a bullet for him. 

And then there was Beomgyu. 

It was one thing to experience his energy in an isolated space and with just the two of them, it was another thing entirely to see him with people he was completely comfortable with. (The number of butterflies that went off in his stomach when Yeonjun realized he was now a part of the circle Beomgyu considered himself comfortable with was embarrassing.) He went after Soobin _ruthlessly_ , ribbing into his cousin and only laughing when Soobin threatened him with bodily harm. He teased Kai and Yeonjun, albeit with less intensity. The only one he couldn’t really tease much was Taehyun, mostly because the younger had a death glare that could probably scare Satan himself. 

But he was also quietly caring. He piled meat on the plates of the two boys younger than him, refilled Soobin’s and Yeonjun’s cups when they weren’t looking. He fixed Kai’s hair while the younger was talking and leaned over the table to wipe at Yeonjun’s mouth. (And you could imagine how red he went when that happened.) 

Yeonjun had predicted one thing correctly; he could not keep a straight face around Beomgyu to save his life. He was cheesing like a motherfucker whenever he so much as glanced at Beomgyu, and Soobin definitely caught on to it. Thankfully, he didn’t say anything while they were eating, but he did level Yeonjun with a raised eyebrow that he was going to have to answer to eventually, but hopefully much, _much_ later. 

“Anyone up for bingsu?” Yeonjun asked as Soobin paid for their bill inside. His wallet was definitely crying even as he said it; he’d already pulled out more than he’d probably needed to, considering that there were five of them that could split the bill equally. But his pride as the oldest at the table and the slightly shameful need to impress the people he was with (specifically just the one person but Yeonjun was ignoring that thought) made him pay more than the others, waving away their attempts to add their own cash to the pool. 

But also, and this was important, he was still hungry. 

“Didn’t you finish off the last of the order that none of us could eat?” Taehyun asked, incredulous. He was squatting on the curbside, squinting up at Yeonjun like he was some unfathomable creature. 

“Yes,” 

Taehyun shrugged. “It’s your intestines I guess,” 

Yeonjun pouted down at him before turning to the others, imploring, putting on his most kicked-puppy look. “Does anyone wanna join hyung?” 

Kai only smiled, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Beomgyu was stood nearest, leaning against a street lamp and looking like the very picture of whatever Taylor Swift wrote about in that one song she had (Yeonjun was badly butchering this simile). He seemed to be thinking it over. 

“Guys,” Yeonjun whined, the evening and food dulling his inhibitions. “I don’t wanna eat alone,”

“You’re still hungry?” Soobin asked, coming out of the restaurant. He went to stop next to Kai, leaning into the younger’s space as if on instinct and Yeonjun had to stop his grin from forming. “Hyung, you’re impossible.” 

“You can’t shame me for this I just want dessert,” Yeonjun pointed at him, pouting when Soobin laughed. “What mean dongsaengs, I’m disowning you all.”

“Damn, finally,” 

“Yah, Choi Soobin!” 

“I’ll go with hyung,” Beomgyu said suddenly, giggling when Yeonjun turned so fast to look at him and giggling further when Yeonjun decided to be really fucking lame and shoot finger guns at him. “I have stuff to tell you anyway,” 

“And what stuff is that, exactly?” Soobin squinted at them, distrust in every inch of his posture. His eyes were flying between Yeonjun and Beomgyu like he was trying to catch them doing...something. This was probably going to be a regular occurrence now, and Yeonjun really wasn’t looking forward to it. 

“We’re gonna talk shit about you,” Yeonjun said, laughing when Soobin scowled at him. He held out a hand in Beomgyu’s direction, realizing a second too late what it might look like. But by then it was too late; Beomgyu had already walked towards him, and the other three were already looking at them, their faces showing different shades of emotion that Yeonjun was a little afraid to try and interpret. Kai, at least, looked more curious than suspicious, unlike the boy next to him, whom Yeonjun was avidly avoiding eye contact with. Taehyun was more smug than anything else, and maybe that was actually worse. 

“We’ll get going then,” Yeonjun coughed, lowering his hand back to his side and feeling caught. 

“Be safe, hyungs,” Taehyun said, and his words were technically innocent but the look on Taehyun’s face made Yeonjun want to evaporate. 

“We will,” Beomgyu said. That made the furrow in Soobin’s brow go a little deeper. Yeonjun was gonna die tomorrow, probably. 

They made their goodbyes, Yeonjun’s a little quieter under Soobin’s scrutiny, and went off. If he felt Soobin’s eye on him as they walked away, he tried with all his might to ignore it. 

They ended up getting bingsu from a stall that Beomgyu recommended, the younger wheedling him into splitting the bill equally instead of letting Yeonjun pay for both of them. They walk around while eating, and for some reason, Yeonjun feared that they might slip into the awkwardness of their first meeting. It wasn’t a rational fear, but he couldn’t help it. The thing that had thrown them together wasn’t an active thing anymore. Beomgyu had no obligations to him anymore. 

(If Soobin could hear his thoughts right now, he’d hit Yeonjun over the head and call him a dramatic, overthinking little Virgo.) 

But the worry turned out to be for nothing. Beomgyu was as sweet and annoying and sweetly annoying as he’d always been, and Yeonjun found himself drawn into the younger’s orbit once more, unabashed and unashamed now that it was just the two of them. 

They burned through the bingsu quickly, eating it as Beomgyu spilled everything he knew about Soobin’s crush on Kai (Soobin had liked Kai for almost four months, and fell head over ass almost immediately) but Yeonjun sniffed out some odeng bokkeum and they made another meal out of that, sharing the order between them. They stop for once, setting down on the curb beside the kiosk and taking turns eating. It was silent for the first time between them since they started walking, and he steeped it in for now. Enjoyed the butterflies he’d had to act like were nothing these past few hours. It was nice to feel the buzz of them now, to look at Beomgyu and not have to be careful of what others might glean from it. 

“How was your exam, by the way?” Beomgyu asked, pulling Yeonjun out of his reverie. He turned to Yeonjun then, passive curiosity on his face but Yeonjun could see the concern buried underneath. “We never got to talk about it.” 

“It went well,” Yeonjun said, smiling a little when some tension left Beomgyu’s shoulders. “I don’t think I ever got to thank you for helping me. Like, really thank you.” 

Beomgyu waved away his words. “You don’t need to, I was happy to help.” 

“You saved me back there,” Yeonjun continued anyway, ignoring the shove Beomgyu delivers to his shoulder, “I was very close to contacting a hitman. Things were dire, I was desperate.” 

“A hitman?” Beomgyu wheezed. “Hyung you’re the most dramatic person I’ve ever met.” 

Yeonjun shrugged. He still would have done it had he not met Beomgyu. Maybe. 

“But really–yah, I can see what you’re doing, don’t try and change the topic by insulting me and let me compliment you.”

“Oh my god, hyung—” 

“Let me do it! Really, thank you. You were the best tutor I could have asked for, I’m serious!” Yeonjun added when Beomgyu hid his face in his hands and started whining at him to stop. Their empty order container laid forgotten between them. “You never once made me feel dumb for not getting shit, and the stuff you taught me helped so much in the exam. You were a huge help, seriously.” 

Beomgyu’s ears and neck we red. When he finally resurfaced to look at Yeonjun head-on, his cheeks were, too. Yeonjun’s chest ached. 

“I keep thinking of what I could do to repay you,” Yeonjun added, holding up a finger when he saw that Beomgyu was about to interrupt. “Look, I was genuinely scared for my scholarship back there. Let me do something for you.” 

“I got something out of it though!” Beomgyu exclaimed, reddening more when he saw the confusion that must be on Yeonjun’s face. A beat of silence stretched between them before Beomgyu seemed to have gathered his nerve. “I got to meet you! That’s what I got out of it.” 

It was Yeonjun’s turn to hide his face in his hands, his breathing as quiet as he could make it as he tried to will the flush to leave his face. 

Things changed, little by little. 

Yeonjun saw Beomgyu more, both alone and with Soobin. And it seemed that where Beomgyu went, Kai and Taehyun followed. The three of them folded into him and Soobin’s dynamic so seamlessly that Yeonjun wondered why it took this long for all of them to meet. But then he saw how Soobin threw quietly yearning looks Kai’s way and how he shrank a little each time he was caught and surmised that this was the exact thing Soobin was avoiding. 

But it wasn’t like Yeonjun was any better. He had been on the receiving end of multiple elbows to the ribs whenever he so much as glanced in Beomgyu’s direction. (Suffice it to say that Yeonjun didn’t see the bruising on his torso fading any time soon.) But Yeonjun liked looking at Beomgyu. It couldn’t be helped, no matter how many vaguely threatening gestures he got from Soobin every time he and Beomgyu broke off the main group to hang out alone. 

(They got around to talking about it, eventually. Soobin sat him down (in the library of all places) and fixed him with the most serious look that Yeonjun’s ever seen the younger wear. 

Soobin didn’t beat around the bush. “What are your intentions with Beomgyu?” He ignored Yeonjun’s choked coughing and continued on. “I know you like him, hyung. As his cousin I am always the final arbiter, so, go on, make your piece.”

“Why do you make it sound like I’m on trial,” Yeonjun said, coughing still, but as deadpan as he could make it. 

“Because you are!” Soobin said, voice rising, and it was a little too loud for the librarian, who walked past and shushed him. She even managed to glare at Yeonjun for coughing before walking away.

“I swear that woman is out to get me,” Yeonjun muttered, recoiling when Soobin smacked him sharply on the arm. “Ow!” They were shushed again. “Soobin,” he said, a whisper now, “for the love of god try not to get us kicked out.” 

“What are your intentions with Beomgyu?” 

Yeonjun nearly groaned, but caught the eye of the librarian and stopped himself. He looked up at the ceiling instead, counted his breaths coming in and out. Soobin, at least, gave him the space to get his thoughts together. But that was the thing; he didn’t really know what thoughts he had. He liked Beomgyu a lot, and he was sure of that. Sometimes, he got the inkling that Beomgyu liked him back, but Yeonjun wouldn’t push. Couldn’t ever bring himself to push. He’d go with whatever Beomgyu wanted and that was that. 

“Uh,” he said, unable to hide his wince when Soobin looked further unimpressed. “I don’t know what you want me to say,” 

“What I want doesn’t matter,” Soobin said very matter-of-fact. “It’s Beomgyu’s best interest that matters.” 

“And that’s what I want, too, I guess,” Yeonjun scratched the back of his neck, unsure of how to continue. “I’ll go with what he goes with. If it’s me, then that’s great. If it isn’t, well,” He ignored the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach at the thought. “I’ll learn to get over it,” he finished, nodding to himself. Without realizing, he had locked his hands together on the table, as if to give himself support. 

They were both quiet for a moment, Yeonjun staring at his hands and Soobin staring at Yeonjun. 

“Fine,” Soobin said suddenly, jolting Yeonjun out of his own head.

“Huh,” he said intelligently. Soobin only huffed, a small smile tugging at his mouth. 

“You have my permission.” 

Yeonjun didn’t bother to hide his shock, and he would always attribute his next words to that shock. “So do I call you ‘future bro-in-law’ in my valedictorian speech?” 

He most likely deserved the very strong punch to his shoulder after that.) 

Hanging out alone with Beomgyu was its own monster, anyway. Yeonjun had never been into a person to this degree, it was almost embarrassing. It was at all times familiar and new, this thing he had in his chest. It lived at the very edge of his skin, revealed itself whenever he reached out to ask for the younger’s hand. Revealed itself in the goosebumps that erupted whenever Beomgyu took it. 

And it would be easy if it was just the physical he was into. It would be laughably easy. But Beomgyu was also scary smart. He was also so funny he had Yeonjun wheezing. He was also one of the kindest people that Yeonjun had ever met. 

It would be so easy. 

But Yeonjun was also fine with it not being easy. Because to know Beomgyu was a gift, and now that he knew him it was getting increasingly more difficult to imagine a life that didn’t have the younger in it. (And it wasn’t as though Yeonjun needed him; Yeonjun was fine before he met Beomgyu. Theoretically, he would have been fine had he not met Beomgyu, but he liked his life better with Beomgyu there. Yeonjun hoped he wasn’t selfish to hope that Beomgyu felt the same way.)

He just wished he knew what to do with thing in his chest, he guessed. It was like an itch that got worse every day. He wanted so very badly to say something, but a new excuse came up every time he found the chance to do so. _This wasn’t the right time. He shouldn’t do this here. He should prepare something._

It went to a head when Yeonjun broke himself out of a fugue state one night and found himself piecing together a very long and very comprehensive playlist at three in the morning titled “ _beomie feels <///3_”. By then, it was forty-three songs long and included too many Ariana Grande songs for Yeonjun to look at it and not be completely ashamed. (And that wasn’t even a dig at Ariana; Yeonjun was an unapologetic whore for pop music. But the songs he chose, Jesus god; _goodnight n go_ was right next to _pete davidson_. Yeonjun could never let this see the light of day.) 

It was during the thirty-minute fallout of that whole debacle that he stared down at his laptop screen, at the little broken heart emoji he’d typed into the title, that he decided that he was going to have to do something. Even if it killed him. 

As it happened, well. 

Yeonjun would have to start from the beginning. 

It was the morning after Playlistgate, as he’d taken to calling it in his head, and Yeonjun had woken up with his first alarm, staring up at his celing with his heart beating a war cry in his rib cage. He had not forgotten his resolve from a few hours prior. He was going to do it. 

He was going to confess to Beomgyu. 

He showered and ate breakfast with those few words ringing in his ears. He dressed mechanically, scrolling through his notifications but seeing nothing. It felt like straight adrenaline had replaced his blood then, fired up as he was. He was meeting Beomgyu for lunch later after their classes, Yeonjun’s first and Beomgyu’s second. That worked. He’d say it then. 

The most recent text in his inbox was Beomgyu, a simple good morning from when he’d woken up a few hours prior. A follow-up, sent near the time that Yeonjun had woken up, stared up at him like an omen. _good luck today hyungie._

Yeonjun grit his teeth, squared his shoulders. Good luck to him, indeed. 

But whatever courage he’d built up in the morning, by the time he was walking to the cafe he was meant to meet Beomgyu in, it had already evaporated. He debated whether he should just turn around, tell Beomgyu he didn’t feel too well, and just walk into the sea, but he trashed the idea. He was already disappointing himself in not following through, he couldn’t disappoint Beomgyu. 

The younger was already there, sat in a table for four near the entrance. He waved at Yeonjun when the older walked in, dressed simply in a white t-shirt and jeans, and yet it still made Yeonjun’s heart skip a beat. He was more devastating as Yeonjun got closer, soft with sleepiness and rubbing at his eyes. 

“Late night?” Yeonjun asked, setting his bag down on the table. Beomgyu had already ordered drinks for the two of them, but Yeonjun had been craving cake since he woke up. 

The younger nodded. “Essay,” was all he said, yawning and stretching his arms. He looked so cute that it took all of Yeonjun to just ruffle his hair as he passed by to get to the register. 

It was an emotional tug-of-war wreaking havoc in his brain as he ordered. Should he say something or not? There were dozens of reasons popping up why he shouldn’t, but there were also dozens of reasons as to why he should. Because Beomgyu deserved to know. Because Yeonjun, at the end of the day, needed to say it. Because his mother often spoke of sharing good things, and as panic-inducing his feelings for Beomgyu were, they’ve done nothing but make Yeonjun happy. And whatever the result was, he could at least say he tried. 

He received his cake and made up his mind. 

Beomgyu was scrolling through his phone absentmindedly when Yeonjun returned, but put it down when he sat down. He looked marginally more awake, a glint in his eye that wasn’t there when Yeonjun first walked in. Yeonjun offered him some cake, and Beomgyu accepted. They didn’t say anything for a while, and usually Yeonjun enjoyed their silences, but now it only brought his nervousness into sharp relief. There was a mosh pit in his chest, and he wondered if Beomgyu could hear how ferociously his heart was trying to beat out of his chest. 

“Hyung,” Beomgyu said, and Yeonjun looked up. Without realizing, he’d been staring at his cream-covered fork. “Are you free tomorrow?” 

The gears in Yeonjun’s brain slowed to a stop. “...huh?” 

Beomgyu blushed. He was so pretty when he blushed. “Are you free,” he repeated, almost breathless, “tomorrow?” 

“To do what?” Yeonjun asked, chewing on his cake. He didn’t realize he still had a piece lodged in his cheek. 

The younger looked slightly frustrated, pursing his lips and sighing through his nose. Yeonjun had no idea what the fuck was going on. 

“To uh,” Beomgyu started, swallowed. He looked to be steeling himself. “Go on a date. W-With me.” 

Complete silence. Yeonjun’s head went empty. 

“... _WHAT_ ,” was what came out of his mouth moments later, startling Beomgyu and half the cafe. They were looking at them–him, now, but Yeonjun couldn’t bring himself to give a shit. Not even a quarter of a shit. This couldn’t be happening.

Beomgyu looked like he wanted to die, and boy could Yeonjun relate. “Did I read this wrong?” he asked, still managing to be polite while Yeonjun was falling apart across from him. Jesus, he didn’t deserve this boy. “I mean, you don’t have to say yes, obviously I just thought that maybe you liked me? Oh my god this was such an assumption wasn’t it this was a mistake, I’m so sorry—”

“NO,” Yeonjun said next. Beomgyu froze in his seat. Yeonjun coughed, hit his own cheek to shock himself back to earth. “My god I’m sorry, wait, let me get my brain restarted.” 

“You don’t have to beat around the bush,” Beomgyu said, and lord his eyes looked teary. Yeonjun would never forgive himself if he made him cry. 

“No Beomgyu, look,” Desperately, he grabbed onto Beomgyu’s hands, feeling the way the younger jolted, meeting his stare. “ _I_ was going to ask you out just now. Like, literally a minute ago.” 

Silence. And then—

“ _WHAT?_ ”

Yeonjun laughed, something hysterical in his voice. “I was plucking up the courage to ask you out and then you went ahead and asked me and I just—” Dear god, he might be crying. 

“Hyung, why are you crying?” 

Yeonjun sniffed, letting go of Beomgyu’s hands to wipe at his eyes. He wasn’t the only one tearing up; Beomgyu’s own eyes were rimmed red and teary. 

“Wait, noooooo,” Yeonjun whined, reaching across the table to swipe his thumbs under Beomgyu’s eyes, but his actions only triggered more tears to fall. “Ah, stupid hyungie making you cry before I could even take you on a date. I’m sorry, Beomie.” 

“Stop saying sorry,” Beomgyu warbled, grabbing onto Yeonjun’s outstretched arms and pulling him in, slamming their foreheads together. Yeonjun ignored the pain; he could only look at the new light in Beomgyu’s eyes, at the pink sweetness of his smile. “We’re both idiots, it’s fine.” 

They laugh a little, puffing air into each other’s faces. Yeonjun could probably fly right now, he was so happy. 

“Go out with me hyung?” Beomgyu asked, the grin on his face euphoric. 

Yeonjun leaned in just that bit more, gave him his answer. 

**Author's Note:**

> hope you liked it! <3
> 
> edit: 
> 
> i made a writing twt! find me on [@altbeomjuns](https://twitter.com/altbeomjuns) hehe
> 
> and the moodboard tweet for this fic will be [here](https://twitter.com/altbeomjuns/status/1353958482446176256?s=20)


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